


my life; your hands

by meliorismel



Series: The Black Room [1]
Category: SHINee
Genre: Alternate Universe - Assassins & Hitmen, Blood, Blood and Injury, Blood and Violence, M/M, Near Death Experiences, Stabbing, first they're sour then they're sweet
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-09-28
Updated: 2020-09-28
Packaged: 2021-03-07 18:35:26
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,094
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26692297
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/meliorismel/pseuds/meliorismel
Summary: Jonghyun never fucking listens, but Kibum never really expects him to.orJonghyun and Kibum are assassins in training.
Relationships: Kim Jonghyun/Kim Kibum | Key
Series: The Black Room [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1942381
Comments: 9
Kudos: 23





	my life; your hands

Kibum opens his eyes and immediately forgets how to breathe. There’s the cold press of a blade against his neck, a shadow just beyond his eyesight, knees digging into his sides. His eyes haven’t adjusted to the darkness around him, but his ears pick up on the things he can’t see.

The man above him is quiet, waiting. He probably wants Kibum to struggle, to fight his way out—maybe even cry a little. But Kibum knows how to pick his battles and this one is already lost.

Oh, well. There’s always next time.

He swallows to feel the blade nick his skin. His blood tickles as it flows out in a slow craw. Had there been light and a mirror, he would’ve admired the way ruby red stands out against his white skin. As it is, he’s sprawled out against the hard ground, caged beneath a man who hasn’t made another move since throwing him down hard enough to knock him unconscious for what felt like a few second but could’ve been more. 

“This is usually where I’d ask a man to go deeper,” Kibum challenges. Every other syllable rubs his skin against the tip of the blade and an ache starts to make itself present in his limbs. His fingers twitch just as the man above him releases a breath that sounds like a chuckle.

That sounds like Jonghyun.

The blade shifts and Kibum struggles to keep his breathing even. It’ll make the slide easier. His blood comes out faster. If he’d been wearing a shirt, the collar would no doubt be ruined at this point.

Jonghyun’s hands are steady when he finally speaks, his obvious self-satisfaction still leaving room for Kibum to hear the unease with which he accepts such an easy victory. And yet, Kibum can sense his smile.

“You can still ask.”

 _Fuck you,_ Kibum thinks (only because he can’t say it with a knife inch deep inside his neck).

Jonghyun leans closer, his change in angle pushing the blade’s tip even deeper, and Kibum’s body falters. He can’t help it. The response hasn’t been worked out of him yet. He hasn’t had enough knives plunged into his throat for him to know how not to react. And even though Kibum can’t see Jonghyun’s face, he knows Jonghyun can see the moment his resolve breaks into partially controlled fear. It’s times like these when the months between them feels more like years. When Jonghyun seems more like Taemin and Kibum realizes he might never catch up.

“Go on,” Jonghyun taunts, his voice hardening to a command Kibum can’t ignore, “Ask.”

There’s liquid sitting in the back of Kibum’s mouth now. He recognizes the metallic taste of blood as his throat convulses and he begins to drown in his own blood. Anything he says now would come out garbled, possibly too hard to understand. He tries anyway, because Jonghyun doesn’t care what he says. He only cares that Kibum begs.

“–eep—er.” Kibum can’t hear himself for all the blood rushing through his ears and falling from his parted lips. Lights begin to dance in his eyes, and he swears that he can finally see Jonghyun’s twisted sneer hovering above him.

“What’d you say? I’m not sure I caught that.”

“–uck y—ou,” he sputters, defiance winning out against his desire to end the fight already, though it wasn’t much of a fight to begin with if he’s being honest with himself. As soon as the lights went out, he never stood a chance. It’s rumored that Jonghyun’s been practicing enhancing his sight since even before The Guardian found him—he belongs to the night. Kibum still goes to bed wishing he could feel the sun’s rays on his skin instead of the ever-present chill of metal.

“Gladly.”

Kibum’s entire chest lights on fire as Jonghyun pulls the knife out, the flames travel to the base of his feet and it’s an odd numbing sensation. There’s so much blood in his mouth, so much pouring out of the hole in his neck. Kibum won’t die—he knows Jonghyun wasn’t tasked to kill him—but damn if it doesn’t feel like it.

What he wouldn’t give for Jonghyun to go easy on him. Just once.

When the lights turn back on, Kibum settles for Jonghyun’s hand against his skin and the apology that stumbles too fast from his lips.

“Shit. Fuck. Kibum, I’m sorry. I didn’t think you would bleed this much. Fuck. I’m—”

Jonghyun is pulled away and replaced by a medic before Kibum can tell him he's fine, it's okay—that everything is going to be all right. It wouldn’t have been too convincing either way, what with being unable to speak and currently lying in a puddle of his own blood. But it’s the thought that counts. Jonghyun will most likely come find him in the hospital wing and stay for as long as his training will allow. Kibum will keep him from apologizing every minute and things will go back to how they always are outside the Black Room.

Right now, though, Kibum fights to continue breathing despite the hole in his neck.

He must always keep breathing.

/

The examination rooms here aren't all that different from the ones Kibum visited at actual hospitals. Except here, the walls are a coral pink instead of white to lessen the shock of seeing an entire room covered in blood when things go wrong—as they so often do.

The color doesn’t lessen Kibum’s hatred for being here. Doctor Choi Minho’s face, however, does.

He enters the room already smiling and Kibum can feel his body relax for the first time in weeks. Minho is the head doctor and, at least to Kibum, the only one who really knows what the fuck he's doing in the medical wing. There isn't a pair of hands in the world Kibum trusts more to keep him alive, no matter what condition he found himself in.

When he was brought to the infirmary after the incident in the Black Room and heard the nurses call for someone else—another doctor who wasn’t Choi Minho—Kibum was certain he was going to die.

He’d never prayed so hard to be wrong.

Now he’s here and so is Minho, and maybe he’ll finally get cleared to go back to training. Back to Jonghyun. Kibum hasn’t seen him since he was released to his own quarters. That was five days ago—time that wouldn’t seem like a lot to others, but in here, it could be a death sentence.

Minho sits in the chair across from Kibum and clears his throat, a gratuitous action since he’s had Kibum’s attention from the very moment he stepped through the door.

“Heard you took quite the beating while I was away.”

Kibum’s hand drifts to the bandage around his neck. “Yeah. Can’t say I enjoyed it.”

Minho's eyes stay locked with Kibum's, aware of everything he's leaving unsaid. Kibum manages to keep his expression neutral. 

“You sure he wasn’t trying to kill you?”

“He wouldn’t—,” Kibum starts, but Minho is already waving away his defense.

“It was a joke, Kibum. I know.” Minho drops his eyes to Kibum’s clenched fists. “I saw your initial scans. His precision. Even in the dark. That’s—”

“Yeah.” Kibum doesn’t want to be reminded how good Jonghyun is, how much _better_ Jonghyun is. A deliberate twist of his wrist and Kibum could’ve been dead in an instant.

No, Kibum doesn’t want to remember how much of his own life Jonghyun held in his hands—his hands that felt Kibum’s warmth spill between his fingers; his hands that trembled as he tried to stop the life from leaving Kibum’s body; his hands that held Kibum’s so tight as he recovered in the medical bay.

“You’re healing well,” Minho tells Kibum as if he doesn’t already know. The wound is still a deep red against his skin, but it’s not as tender as it was last week. It only throbs when he touches it absentmindedly, as he’s apt to do when his mind drifts—to the Black Room, drowning, Jonghyun reaching, reaching, pressing deeper.

Kibum didn’t schedule this check-up for a pat on the back and to be told what a good boy he’s being.

“When can I start training again?”

/

It takes all of one second for Jonghyun to notice when Kibum walks into the Blue Room. Their eyes meet and the storm that’s been raging around Kibum for the past three weeks finally settles. The thought of Jonghyun coming to the Blue Room every day—watching the entrance, waiting for Kibum to come back even though he’s advanced to Room 2—makes the hairs on Kibum’s nape rise.

 _Loyalty has no place here_ , Guardian Jinki reminds them every day as his voice rings through the compound every hour on the hour.

Kibum absorbs his words easier than most. It’s why he excels, why he caught Jonghyun’s attention in the first place. But what he sees in Jonghyun’s eyes isn’t competition—no. He wouldn’t be able to best Jonghyun on his worst day. What he sees might be scarier.

_Your only desire should be to live longer than the person beside you. You must always keep breathing._

As if it were that easy.

Jonghyun has been steadily making his way across the room to Kibum and waits until they’re chest to chest before screaming into Kibum’s ear like the mad man he is.

“You’re back!”

Kibum doesn’t flinch, a reaction that amuses Jonghyun all the more. He does, however, pinch Jonghyun’s nose to discourage him from making any more unnecessarily loud noises.

“You need a psych eval.”

“Occupational hazard,” Jonghyun says as his right hand reaches towards Kibum’s neck.

Kibum shoves his arm away before it makes contact. 

“Don’t fucking touch me.”

Jonghyun isn’t deterred by Kibum’s apparent hostility. Just keeps a lopsided grin on his face and misplaced humor in his voice as he regains balance from the force of Kibum's push. They're not so close anymore. Kibum almost hates the inches that separate them.

“C’mon, it was just a little poke.” Two inches deep. “I didn’t think you’d bleed half to death.” Three pints of blood lost. “I won’t do it again.” He would if he had to. No hesitation. “Promise.” Bullshit.

Suddenly, Kibum can’t remember why he was in such a rush to see Jonghyun again.

“Why aren’t you in training?”

Jonghyun cocks his head at Kibum’s question and takes a step closer, undoing Kibum's efforts a few moments ago to create space between the two—space so he can breathe. He runs a hand through Kibum's hair and then down his cheek. And yeah, now Kibum remembers.

His breath catches when Jonghyun’s fingertips graze his neck, just below his scar, hissing when Jonghyun presses his thumb directly on the raised skin.

Jonghyun never fucking listens, but Kibum never really expects him to.

Relief floods his system when Jonghyun steps away—still within arm’s reach, but no longer touching him. Space.

They make a point of not looking into each other’s eyes.

“Boss man wanted me to give this to you.” Jonghyun holds out a folded piece of cotton fiber paper. It’s black, sealed by the Guardian’s insignia—a jaguar partially hidden beneath the wings of an eagle.

“Personally?”

He’s heard about the Guardian making special visits to the numbered rooms, but he never imagined him talking to trainees face-to-face.

Kibum takes the letter with both hands. The anxiety of being scrutinized weighs heavy on his back. There are only two other trainees in the room besides him and Jonghyun, but it feels like an entire arena has come to watch the exchange. Kibum is grateful his hands don’t shake because someone somewhere _is_ watching his face plastered across some twenty odd screens.

He looks back up to see Jonghyun staring at him, though not at his face, a little lower. The wound throbs, almost like it knows its creator is near. And Kibum wonders for a moment if Jonghyun’s touch might make it stop.

Jonghyun shrugs before taking another step back. Space. 

“More or less.”

And then he’s gone, headed out the door to somewhere Kibum can’t follow—probably to Room 2.

Kibum brings his attention back to the letter in his hand and, before he can psych himself out even more, breaks the seal. He already knew what it would say, he was there when Jonghyun received his from Taemin.

Regardless, the words still paralyze him.

_Welcome to Room 1_

“Shit.”

**Author's Note:**

> Is this looking like the start of a series? why yes, yes it is. 
> 
> find me on the blue bird app: [meliorismel](https://twitter.com/meliorismel/) :)


End file.
